Journal
by Taervyn The Altmer
Summary: A non-descript journal found at a local tavern in Skyrim.
1. Chapter 1

Well.

My new life in Skyrim is off to a fantastic start.

All I wanted was to start a new life away from Summerset Isles! I had absolutely no intention of being taken prisoner with a bunch of smelly Nords.

I guess the Imperials thought I was part of Skyrim's little rebellion because five minutes past the border, I'm ambushed by a group of them screaming, "Death to the Stormcloaks!"

I tried to convince those blasted Imperials that I, in fact, wasn't a Stormcloak, but they wouldn't hear it. If I so much as opened my mouth, they would silence me with a "Shut it, elf."

I don't like being silenced.

No love came from the Stormcloaks, either. I heard one mutter, "Filthy Thalmor agent," as I boarded the cart. If my hands hadn't been bound, I would have punched him all the way to Oblivion. I'm no Thalmor, and I never will be.

But anyway. Thank Auri-El for spontaneous dragon attacks, especially if they interrupt a certain Altmer's decapitation. I followed an Imperial named Hadvor out of the hold while the guards fought the dragon off, hoping I could convince him to clear my name. He didn't try to chop my head off again, which was good enough for me.

Going through the keep, I found a new bow and some actual armour instead of ragged robes. The Imperial led me out of the keep and into a small village called Riverwood, where we met up with his aunt and uncle. I took all, er, most of the supplies from that the Imperial's aunt offered, and now his uncle is asking me to go to Whiterun and warn the Jarl about the dragon. I think I'll stick around for a bit, though, and see if I can find some good food. I'm awful hungry.


	2. Chapter 2

Note to self: Don't kill chickens, even if you're _really _hungry. Riverwood is quite fond of its chickens.

The guards gave me quite the workout chasing me out of that place. I'll have to come back once they've forgotten who I am, though. A creepy shopkeeper wants me to find his precious golden claw (I don't know how I could track the thing down with all of Skyrim to search) and a wood elf wants me to deliver a letter to his sweetheart or something. I'm not sure; I wasn't really listening. I'm nobody's errand girl.

I got attacked by more wolves on the road to Whiterun. I wonder if the Jarl will do something about _those _beasts as well as the dragons.

While walking past the farms around the hold capital, I saw a bunch of Nords beating up a giant. After they killed the beast, one of the women, Aela, scolded me for not joining in on the fight. I briefly considered planting an arrow in her brain right there – I was in no shape to fight a blasted giant! – but decided to let her speak.

"We could have used you out there."  
"You were doing fine on your own, I think." I glanced at the giant's body, which had fallen on some poor farmer's crops.  
"Hmph. Well, we need some more warriors for the Companions, a fighters' guild stationed here in Whiterun. If you ever feel like helping out, find me in-"

Aela then said possibly the most unpronounceable name ever. It sounded like a Horker sneezing. I blinked.

"Uh, I'll think about it."  
"Great. Kodlak, our Harbinger, will see if you're worthy." I didn't bother asking what a 'Kodlak' or a 'Harbinger' was.  
"Yeah. Sure. Say, could you give me directions to the, ah, Jarl?"  
"New to Whiterun, eh? He's up in Dragonsreach, the big palace in front of the Gildergreen."  
"Sure. Thanks."

Nords and their weird names. Either way, I don't think I'll be joining up with a bunch of mercenaries anytime soon. I'll find coin somewhere else.


	3. Chapter 3

Whiterun's been a blur. After warning the Jarl about the dragon, he sent me off to some burial chamber to get something called a Dragonstone. I almost ignored his request completely, but decided to go along with it for the possibility of a reward.

The barrow's entrance was crawling with bandits. I thought about sneaking by, but I decided on picking them off with arrows - they could have been carrying loot (they weren't).

Inside the barrow was a whole different story. Draugr wandered the halls and traps were around every corner. It's a miracle I didn't die from all the poison darts shot at me every time I got a puzzle door combination wrong.

I hadn't known frostbite spiders could get so big. Luckily for me, this one was wounded so I could finish it off pretty quickly. I was then foolish enough to free a dark elf trapped in the spider's web who promised to give me that shopkeeper's golden claw. Of course, he tried to run. When I caught up to him, some Draugr were finishing him off for me, which was very nice of them.

Something strange happened in the final chamber. I was drawn towards a strange wall near the exit. It was carved from stone and decorated with markings that somehow seemed both familiar and foreign to me. As I got closer to it, the world seemed to get a bit fuzzy and wind echoed in my ears. I was starting to panic because I'm pretty sure this doesn't usually happen in burial crypts when the wind died down and everything became clear again. A single word flitted through my mind: _Force_. I would have investigated the wall further when a Draugr Overlord popped out of its coffin and charged at me. Needless to say, once I killed it, I got out of that place as fast as I could.


	4. Chapter 4

I returned the stone to the court wizard, who tried to recruit me into some College instead of thanking me.

"You know, if you have the aptitude, you should head over to the Mage's College, in Winterhold."  
"Thanks, I don't really get along with mages. Or the arcane, for that matter."  
"But aren't elves like you-"  
"Like me? You mean the Thalmor?"  
"I meant the Altmer."  
"Oh. Sorry,"  
"All I'm saying is, your race is gifted in the arcane arts. You should give it a chance."

Thanks, but no thanks, Farengar. The last time I got near a mage, their destruction magic almost burned me to a crisp.

When I tried to talk to the Jarl about my reward, I got whisked away to a watchtower to face off against yet another dragon.

Note to self: Get resist fire potions before fighting dragons. I guess it was stupid of me to charge the dragon head on with nothing but iron armour and an Ancient Nord sword and not expect to have flames shot in my face.

Eight health potions later, when the dragon finally died, wind roared in my ears and the world got fuzzy again, just like in Bleak Falls. When it died down, I somehow felt stronger. More powerful. The guards were calling me Dovahkiin, or Dragonborn, whatever that means. The Dunmer was skeptic, and I about to agree with her when one of the guards asked me to demonstrate my Thu'um.

"My _what_?"  
"Your Thu'um, Dragonborn. Your voice."  
I thought I had already demonstrated my 'voice' by talking to him, but then I thought of that word, _Force_, again. As if I already knew what to do, I took a deep breath, summoned thoughts of Force and –  
"FUS!" It felt natural – like I was both screaming at the top of my lungs and softly whispering at the same time. Pure force leapt from my throat, and made the guards stumble back.  
"There is no doubt of it. You are Dovahkiin."

The guards are looking at me like I'm their messiah and the dark elf looks pretty scared, herself. I think I'll head back to Whiterun for some answers.


	5. Chapter 5

As soon as I stepped back into Whiterun, a powerful voice boomed through the streets in a language foreign to me. I thought this may have been a usual thing for the townspeople, but they looked as surprised as I felt. The only word I recognized was 'Dovahkiin'.

The Jarl was no help to me. He told me that the voices belonged to some reclusive, bearded cult of old men who wanted me to visit their temple at the top of a mountain. He had me recount what happened at the watchtower – including the whole dragon/shouting thing. With the help of his court, he explained to me what it meant to be Dragonborn. I have the soul of a dragon, and I can absorb the essence of other dragons to make me more powerful.

It also took me a lot of effort to not blurt out, "What's the use of only having the_ soul_ of a dragon? I mean, it doesn't let me fly or anything."

I was about to find a better use for my time when the Jarl called for me to stop.

"Dragonborn,"  
I flinched, but turned around anyway.  
"You have done a great service to me and my people. I hereby award you the title of Thane. I will assign you a personal housecarl and you will now be eligible to purchase property in the city. If you tell the guards of your status, they'll know to look the other way."  
"Thank you, Jarl Balgruuf." A title I will both accept and abuse.

The housecarl I was awarded seemed disturbingly co-dependent.

"Hello, my Thane."  
"My name's Taervyn."  
"Yes, my Thane. I am Lydia, your housecarl. I am sworn to defend you and your possessions with my life."  
"Uh. Nice to meet you, too."

I told her to stay at Dragonsreach. The idea of someone "protecting me with their life" doesn't sound very appealing.

I think I'm going to avoid the bearded-men-cult for a while. Maybe, after I repair my armour and get some more arrows, I'll head east.


	6. Chapter 6

I got attacked by vampires when I tried to leave Whiterun. If it weren't for the guards' help, I probably would have wound up dead or worse – a vampire. At least I got some potion ingredients from the bloodsuckers.

In other news, I almost got caught stealing a horse on my way out. Thank Auri-El for ignorant guards. The horse was a bit of a disappointment. It was unruly and tried to buck me off several times. When I had to dismount to properly fight off a bandit camp, I decided to just send the horse home. It was more of a nuisance than any real help.

Three bandit and six wolf attacks later, I got to a small town named Ivarstead. I'll steal everything from - er, I mean - stay at the inn for the night and then continue on east. I heard talk of a Thieves' Guild in Riften, which seems like a pretty good way to get some coin. I've been running low .

Ivarstead is a nice enough town, like Riverwood. They live right by the mountain that houses the cult of bearded men – the Greybeards. A man named Klimmek gave me some supplies to bring to them, even when I tried to convince him that I wasn't going up there.

"An adventurer, eh? Here to climb the 7,000 steps, I guess."  
"No. I'm just looking for the inn."  
"Well, if you're making the pilgrimage, could you give them these supplies for me?"  
"I'm not making any pilgrimage – ooph!"  
Klimmek tossed the bag at me, which was much heavier than I expected.  
"I'm still not climbing up that mountain!" I yelled as he walked away.

I threw the bag onto the side of the road before continuing my search for the inn.

I discovered possibly the best thing about Skyrim today: salmon steaks. Once I found the inn, I quickly ordered the first thing I saw on the menu – a salmon steak. It was so delicious I wolfed it down in two bites - fish didn't taste _this _good back in Summerset. I ordered a few more, then decided to just clean the place out of all its salmon steaks before I leave.

Skyrim really isn't that bad after all.


	7. Chapter 7

I couldn't help it. I didn't plan on going up the 7,000 steps, but when some milk-drinker in the tavern started bragging about his pilgrimage up that blasted mountain, I had to challenge him.  
"How far up did you make it, then? All the way to Hrothgar?"  
The man gave me a sleazy grin. I considered giving him a dagger in his gut.  
"Nah, but I did make it to the fourth meditation stone. Ran into a couple of wolves, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. I got a mean scar from one of the bastards, too."  
He showed me a rather ugly gash on his bicep. I remembered the numerous wolf packs I killed on the way to Ivarstead without getting a scratch.  
"Hm. That's nice."  
"Yeah. An elf like you probably wouldn't make it past the second stone, though."  
"An elf like me?"  
"Small. Vulnerable. Helpless. Just a pretty face. Don't take it personally though. Elves are naturally weaker than us Nords."  
I punched him clean off his chair.  
"Insult me again and I'll slice your throat open." I growled as I stalked out of the inn. Not an elegant threat, I know, but I think it got my message across.  
I may hate my race sometimes, but no Nord is going to call me weak and get away with it.

So that's how I decided to climb the 7,000 steps to go talk to the bearded-man-cult. If that Nord was right about nothing worse than wolves on this path, I'll be at High Hrothgar before nightfall.


End file.
